It’s five-something in the morning, Christmas morning. The calm before the storm.
I visited my grandparents last night and then promptly crashed on the couch when I got back. Now I’m just waiting. And thankful.
Two years ago, I remember thinking, Wow, I probably won’t be here next year, not in America anyway. And I wasn’t.
This year, this time, I’m thinking the same thing: Wow, I probably won’t be here next year. So I take lots of pictures and pay attention to all the hugs and handshakes. I feel what it’s like to wait in this calm.
The whole feeling helps me appreciate where I am right now, more than if I knew nothing would ever change.
